A Baseball Life
by pilight
Summary: Wally Pipp takes Ginny on a tour of baseball history
1. Chapter 1

Fastball? Ginny didn't think she could get it by Corey Seager, the Dodgers shortstop, so she shook Mike off. The catcher was insistent and signaled for the heater again. She knew better than to shake him off a second time, after all he was the veteran and she was the rookie. She wound up and pitched, her last pitch of the day.

Seager sent a line drive screaming right back at her. She tried to get her glove up, but couldn't do it fast enough. The ball hit her in the head with a loud "bonk" sound that would have been funny if it hadn't been accompanied by the sight of Ginny Baker collapsing in an unconscious heap.

...

Ginny had heard the phrase "out of body experience", but she had never taken it seriously until now. She was standing in a hospital room, in uniform, looking at her body lying in bed. There were tubes and wires attached to the body and most of the top of her head was covered in bandages. Machines registered her vital functions. She didn't know what all the readings meant, but she felt like her condition was stable. Her biggest concern was whether they'd had to shave her head. She couldn't tell under the bandages. Ginny wasn't vain, but she knew she had good hair and didn't want to lose it.

"They didn't shave it." Ginny was surprised by the voice. She had not noticed the man in the room. He was white, about 6' tall, and wearing an old school baseball uniform. "You were worried about your hair. It's all still there."

"Who are you?" Ginny had never seen this man before.

"The ghost of baseball past"; he said, then chuckled. "Actually, my name is Walter Pipp. My teammates called me Wally."

"Wally Pipp. The guys were just talking about you. When Livan came up to the majors they said Mike might be Wally Pipped. I had to look it up to see what they meant."

"That's why I'm here. You say you love baseball, but you don't know baseball. You talk about Jackie Mitchell and Toni Stone, but only as abstractions. Baseball is a living, breathing entity and you're a part of it. It's time you learned to appreciate it."

"Is this really the right time for a lecture? I could be dying."

"Lecture? No, there's a better way for you to learn." The room faded as Ginny and Wally were transported to another time and place.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny was suddenly in the midst of a scene unlike any she had ever experienced. There was a baseball game going on, a most pecular game. The field was literally just that, a field. No mound, no chalked lines, no fences, just a large grassy area. What struck Ginny most was the players. One team was all black women. They wore full length skirts, wide collared white sailor shirts, and brown leather shoes. The other team was all white men. They wore breeches, some sort of leggings, white shirts with tiny black ties and a sewed on logo over the left breast. The men also wore functional looking brown leather shoes. The spectators were all white, mostly men wearing dark suits with vests. The few women all wore full length dresses and hats.

She turned to Wally. "What is this?"

"It's a baseball game. A little different from what you play, but fundamentally the same."

"I mean, where are we? Why is everyone dressed like that?" Ginny was still in her Padres uniform and felt very out of place. No one else seemed to notice.

"This is Philadelphia. The men are a club called United, a pretty good amateur team. The women are the Dolly Vardens. They're barnstormers based here in Philly. The people are dressed like they are because it's 1870 and that's how people dressed. Stop worrying about them thinking you don't belong. We're not really here. They can't see us or touch us, which is good. They would be more shocked by you than you are by them."

Ginny watched them play a bit. It was ragged, as you might expect from amateurs, but more athletic than she expected. There were still many things that confused her. "What's up with the ball? It's the wrong color. Do they really play the whole game with just one?"

"Slow down. Here." Pipp handed Ginny a ball representative of the era. It was hand stitched brown leather. "The dark ball stands out better for the hitters against the sky. White balls are used for games with fences because that's easier to see with a wooden background."

Ginny gripped the ball. It was about the same size as the ones she was accustomed to, but not as tightly constructed. She applied her curveball grip, then wound up and pitched. The ball curved as expected. It vanished after hitting the ground. "Why is she just pitching it straight up there? She's changing speeds, but the ball isn't moving."

"Look where the catcher is. You think she could catch a curve from there?" The woman, wearing no catching gear, was a good 25 feet behind the batter. "Besides, the curveball was just invented a couple of months ago and hasn't quite been perfected yet. It's certainly not being taught to anyone."

Ginny's mind was racing. She had never conceived of baseball without the curve. It was such an integral part of the game she knew that she could scarcely believe people had played without it.

"Is that really what stands out to you here? The lack of curveballs?" Wally gestured to the field as if to say there was something else Ginny should be seeing here.

They watched some more of the game. The tunnel vision Ginny had developed about pitching had gotten her to the majors when few thought she had a shot. It had also left her blissfully unaware of the larger societal impact of her journey. That's why she had been so unprepared for the onslaught of publicity that engulfed her once she made the show. It is also why she was slow to realize why this game was so odd.

"Wait, you said this was 1870?" Wally nodded. Ginny continued her query; "So these women were _slaves_ just five years ago?"

"Some of them, yes. Most were already freedwomen before that."

"Still, they were allowed to do this in 1870? Play against men? White men?"

"Here, yes. They can't go below the Mason-Dixon line, and they wouldn't be welcome up in New England. They play in New York and New Jersey, and even over into Ohio. Sometimes they show up and get turned away. Sometimes they get chased from the field by unruly fans. Many teams won't play them. But they love the game like you do, so they put up with it."

"I didn't know any of this. How have I not heard about this?"

"That's why I was sent to you." The setting began to change again as Ginny considered how little she knew about the history of the game.


	3. Chapter 3

The next place Ginny found herself was more readily identified as a ballpark. It remained different from what she played in, there was still no mound and no outfield bleachers, but it looked like a place where people regularly played. She looked at the crowd. All white, mostly men, dressed similarly to what she saw before. The teams were both all white men. They wore baseball uniforms not much different from Wally Pipp's, all wool. The game was also not that much different, but clearly being played at a much higher level than the Dolly Vardens. Ginny knew this was a professional game.

"How well do you know the rules of baseball?" Wally asked her.

"My father made me memorize the rulebook when I was 12. He used to quiz me at the dinner table. I didn't get dessert if I got one wrong."

"Did you ever wonder why the rules are what they are?"

"Occasionally I would ask my dad why a rule existed or why it wasn't different. Sometimes he would answer and sometimes he would tell me to find out on my own. I always suspected he made me do the research when he wasn't sure of the answer himself."

"What's the definition of a 'fair ball'?"

Ginny recited from memory; "A fair ball is a batted ball that settles on fair ground between home and first base, or between home and third base, or that is on or over fair territory when bounding to the outfield past first or third base, or that touches first, second or third base, or that first falls on fair territory on or beyond first base or third base, or that, while on or over fair territory touches the person of an umpire or player, or that, while over fair territory, passes out of the playing field in flight. A fair fly shall be judged according to the relative position of the ball and the foul line, including the foul pole, and not as to whether the fielder is on fair or foul territory at the time he touches the ball. Would you like to hear the commentary from the rulebook also?"

"That won't be necessary. Would you be surprised to know the rule used to be different? At the time of this game, 1873, any ball that hit in fair territory was considered a fair ball even if it went foul before reaching first or third."

"Interesting. That's not one I ever asked my dad about."

"This is South End Grounds in Boston. We're here so you can see why the rule was changed, and more generally so you can see the impact rules changes can have." The two walked onto the field and stood near the plate as a man shorter than Ginny took his place in the batter's box. "This is Ross Barnes. He's one of the most effective hitters of this era."

Ginny looked at Barnes, then out at the field. The first and third basemen were playing in, as if they expected a bunt even though he was the leadoff hitter. The first pitch came, it was well outside for a ball. "Why is the pitcher throwing underhanded?" She'd noticed the Dolly Vardens pitcher doing it, but women pitching underhanded in softball was so ingrained in her consciousness than she didn't even register it as unusual. Seeing a man playing professional baseball pitching underhanded was disorienting. "For that matter, why is the pitcher so close to the plate? He's not even 50 feet away."

"You really don't know any baseball history, do you? Overhand pitching wasn't allowed until 1884. Pitchers had to stay inside what was called a pitcher's box until 1893, when the rubber was introduced and placed 60 feet, six inches away from the plate. The pitcher's box was 5 feet long, from 45 to 50 feet from the plate. Pay attention to Barnes here, you'll see something you've never seen before."

Ginny looked back at the batter as the pitch came in. Barnes did bunt, but with a peculiar motion and bat angle. The bat was almost perpendicular to the first base line. His bunt was almost like someone rowing a boat while simultaneously moving the bat towards the field, keeping it at a 90 degree angle to the first base line the whole time. The result was a bunt with a great deal of spin. It landed just fair, then skittered away into foul territory towards the dugout. By the time the first baseman got to it Barnes was on second with the world's shortest double.

"What just happened?" Ginny didn't understand how Barnes could get that much spin using a round bat.

"It was called a fair-foul bunt. Barnes was the master of it. He could make those bunts go anywhere he wanted. He once had one land right in front of the plate then roll back through the catcher's legs before he could move. He learned how to spin balls playing tennis. Anyway, as other players started learning his methods, the game got less fun for players and less appealing to spectators. So in 1877 they changed the definition of a fair ball to the one you know. You want to see something funny that came about because of this?"

"Funny? I thought this was a serious lesson."

"It is, but the game is supposed to be fun. You shouldn't lose sight of that while you learn."

Ginny nodded and they were transported again. This time it was a more modern setting. Not 2016, the uniforms were too colorful, but a lot closer than they had been. It was a domed stadium and she recognized the teams, the Royals batting and the Mariners in the field. She and Wally were standing along the third base line. Ginny looked into the stands and didn't see a single cell phone, but there were TV cameras and the stadium had relatively modern facilities. She was about to venture a guess as to when and where they were when Wally explained the setting.

"This is the Kingdome in Seattle and the year is 1981."

Ginny saw the batter had the name "Otis" on the back of his uniform. Without any prompting from Wally she knew his name was Amos Otis. There were runners on first and second. The pitch came in and Otis got on top of it, sending a very slow roller down the third base line. It was one of those balls all fielders hate, in no man's land and going too slow for anyone to make a play on it. It was just hugging the line and even curving a bit towards fair territory. Suddenly the Mariners third baseman, Ginny somehow knew his name was Lenny Randle, came up and rather than fielding it, he got down on his hands and knees and started blowing it towards foul territory. Ginny burst out laughing as the ball went foul and the home plate umpire signaled it a foul ball.

"Now I know why the rule says you can't alter the course of the ball to make it go foul. I always thought that wording was odd." Ginny was still laughing as she and Wally were whisked away again.


	4. Chapter 4

"You ever use a spitball?" Wally seemed genuinely curious.

"Ew, no. When I was in middle school some of the boys like to spit them in my hair. I hated them. I hated middle school."

Wally laughed; "No, not that kind of spitball. I mean a pitch where you put something on the ball."

"Yuck, that's disgusting, not to mention illegal. And yes, I know, it wasn't always. I'm not completely clueless."

"Good, this will be a quick stop then."

Ginny looked around and this time didn't have to ask when and where they were. She just knew somehow that they were in Pittsburgh at Forbes Field and the year was 1912. These players wore uniforms very similar to what Wally wore. The crowd was still mostly men, still in suits but now almost all of them wore hats. Some bowlers, but many straw boaters. The stadium was a stadium, with grandstands going all the way down the foul lines to the outfield. Still no outfield bleachers. Wally and Ginny were just to the side of the mound, where the pitcher was warming up.

"This is Marty O'Toole. He was known for his spitball. He didn't make any effort to hide what he was doing, as you'll see when he's ready to throw a real pitch."

This was more interesting to Ginny than the previous scenes. Being a pitcher she was always on the lookout for anything she could add to her arsenal. The ump called for play to start and tossed the game ball to O'Toole. He looked it all over, glanced at the batter, then licked the side of the ball as if it were a particularly sweet ice cream cone. Ginny felt a gorge rising in her belly as she noticed that O'Toole had an abnormally long tongue. Someone older might have been reminded of Mick Jagger or Gene Simmons. To Ginny this conjured images of the rapper known as Danny Brown, the main difference being O'Toole had all of his teeth.

"I can't watch this, I'm going to throw up." Ginny started to look away, but her fascination got the better of her and she watched him pitch. The ball curved much more sharply than any pitch she'd ever seen. It was like something out of a video game. "Wow. Maybe I should try this."

"If you get caught you'll be suspended and a million little girls will think it is OK to cheat. Anyway, he's not done. You need to see this next pitch."

O'Toole got the ball back from the catcher and started the same ritual again, only this time instead of licking the ball he somehow placed the entire ball in his mouth. At that point Ginny did turn away. If she looked at O'Toole rolling the ball around in his mouth any longer she would lose her lunch. "Let's get out of here."

"As you wish. The next stop is a whole different brand of disgusting."


	5. Chapter 5

The park they next appeared in was unfamiliar to Ginny. However, she was getting accustomed to the...dream? hallucination? delusion?...so she knew it was called Ebbets Field and they were in Brooklyn in 1947. Ginny and Wally were near first base, where she saw a face she recognized without any help. It was Jackie Robinson, playing first. His uniform said "Dodgers".

This was all confusing to her. She turned to Wally; "The Dodgers played in Brooklyn? Why is Jackie playing first? He was a second baseman."

Wally shook his head at the rookie's lack of historical knowledge. "Yeah, they were the Brooklyn Dodgers up until 1958. That's where the name came from, trolley dodgers. As for Robinson, the team was worried that he would get spiked playing second, so he spent his rookie season at first."

None of that helped Ginny in the slightest. "What's a trolley dodger? What do you mean, 'spiked'?"

"You know what a trolley is, right?" Ginny nodded as Wally continued; "The first ones were horse drawn. You could step out in front of it and the horse would stop. Cars were rare in those days. Because of that, people weren't in the habit of looking to see what was coming when they stepped out into the street. When the first electric trolleys were introduced, dozens of people got run over and killed. Many more, saw or heard the trolley in time and jumped out of the way, dodging the trolley. Brooklyn was one of the first places to have electric trolleys, so Brooklynites were called 'trolley dodgers'."

"OK, but what about spiking?"

"It will be easier to show you."

The two were suddenly in a new place. Ginny understood it to be Navin Field in Detroit in 1915. They were standing near second base. Ginny saw the runner at first base and knew it was Ty Cobb. Cobb stole second and when sliding in he practically leaped into the second baseman feet first, with the spikes of his cleats impaling the defender.

"Oh my god. They let this happen?" Ginny was appalled.

"It was pretty common in this era. By the 1940's it was more rare, but not unheard of. It still happens occasionally in your time, but it's frowned on. It's also gotten more subtle over the years. Cobb wasn't trying to hurt anyone, but sometimes there was that intention. I can show you some pretty gruesome injuries from it if you like."

"That's OK, I get the idea." Ginny was still a little queasy from seeing Marty O'Toole. She didn't want to make it worse.

Nobody in this 1915 game seemed at all upset about the slide. The game continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Then Ginny and Wally were back with Jackie Robinson in 1947.

"See the Phillies manager?" Wally pointed towards the visiting dugout, which was on the first base side. Ginny spotted him and instantly knew his name was Ben Chapman. "He's the other half of what we came to see. Well, not see so much as hear."

The Dodgers pitcher finished his warm up throws and the game started. Ginny found it odd that she didn't get the pitcher's name when she looked at him the way she did with Chapman.

"That's Hal Gregg. He's not important to this lesson. That's why you don't know his name. Now, pay attention to Chapman and Robinson." Wally wanted to make sure Ginny learned what she was here to learn.

After a couple of pitches, Chapman started heckling Robinson. Ginny wasn't sure "heckling" was the right word for what Chapman was doing. He was laying into Robinson with a non-stop barrage of racial epithets. Some were words and phrases Ginny had never heard, but still recognized. They were hard wired into her African American DNA and she knew what they meant without any assistance from the dream state. She looked away from Chapman and towards Robinson, who was pretending not to hear it. She admired his strength but wondered how long he could stand it. Ginny had been listening for less than a minute and she was ready to scratch someone's eyes out. She looked around the park and realized Robinson was the only black person here. All the other players were white. All the umpires were white. All the fans were white. As Chapman continued his assault she became more acutely aware of her blackness than she'd ever been. Ginny knew a little something about racism, but in the world she lived in it didn't manifest itself like this. She got it in a thousand small things. Micro-aggressions she'd heard them called. Getting pulled over for no reason. Sales clerks ignoring her to wait on white customers. Innumerable other subtle snubs and coded words, often coming without the other person even being aware they were doing anything wrong. This non-stop direct abuse was foreign to her. She thought it was odd no one was doing anything about it. The umps let it go. The fans didn't seem to care. Robinson's teammates were acting much as he was. Apparently he was just supposed to stand here and take it.

The inning ended with the Phillies stranding two runners. Robinson only had to make one play, a routine putout on a grounder to second. Chapman subsided as the Dodgers entered their dugout. Ginny saw the Dodgers shortstop, Pee Wee Reese, encouraging Robinson before Jackie stepped into the on deck circle. Ginny found that reassuring. She knew Robinson had overcome this to become a Hall of Fame player, but she had never fully grasped what he had to put up with. She supposed she still didn't, but she was much closer than she had been before.

Wally tried to comfort her by putting his arm around her shoulders, but his next words turned her anxiety back up; "You have to see this next sequence on your own. You won't see me again until you're ready."


	6. Chapter 6

The scenes started changing quickly now. Wally had disappeared so Ginny saw these events by herself. It was 1963 in Dodger Stadium and Sandy Koufax was pitching from a mound so high Ginny thought you would need a Sherpa to reach the top.

It was 1988 in Oakland. Ginny was in the A's locker room watching Jose Canseco inject something into his own buttock.

It was 1897 in Boston and a player named Jack Doyle was brawling with an umpire named Tom Lynch.

It was still 1897 and Ginny was still in Boston watching a teenage girl named Maud Nelson make her professional debut for a team called the Bloomer Girls.

It was 1952 and Ginny was riding on a bus with a team of women called the Rockford Peaches. Ginny knew a little about this. She has seen A League of Their Own about 100 times and knew the league song they were singing as they rode. She sang along; "We're the members of the All American League..."; until the scene changed again.

It was 1979 in Chicago. Between games of a double header there was a weird promotion going on that involved destroying vinyl records. It seemed to be getting out of control. From the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar face, a much younger version of her manager Al was in the White Sox dugout looking at the scene in amazement.

It was 1904 in New York. A pitcher named Iron Joe McGinnity had just finished the first game of a double header, a complete game, and was now warming up to pitch the second game. Ginny's head swam at the thought of pitching that much in one day, let alone coming back to pitch again three days later.

It was 1929 in Chicago. Ginny was in the front office as a woman named Midge Donahue suggested to owner William Wrigley that the team sell season tickets, the first time anyone had made such a proposal.

It was 1932, still in Chicago. Ginny watched the most iconic baseball player of all, Babe Ruth, point to center field then wallop the very next pitch to exactly the spot he had pointed.

It was 1952 in St Louis. Ginny towered over Eddie Gaedel as he drew a walk on four straight pitches.

She saw Josh Gibson launch a ball 500 feet. She saw Sadaharu Oh launch a ball 500 feet. She saw Walter Johnson and Pete Alexander and Nolan Ryan and Satchel Paige and Bob Feller work their magic from the mound. She got an up close look at Joe DiMaggio and Hank Aaron and Roberto Clemente and Rickey Henderson as they hit and run and played the field. Ginny was exhilarated. She wanted to know everything about baseball. She felt she could stay and experience these scenes forever.

It was 1920 in New York. A player Ginny had never heard of named Ray Chapman was at bat. She spotted Wally playing first base but he didn't seem to notice her. It was starting to get dark and the stadium had no lights. The pitch came in and there was a loud crack. Ginny thought Chapman must have swung. What else could make a sound that loud? She saw the pitcher throw to first, then realized Chapman didn't run it out. He never moved from the batter's box. She saw the blood coming out of his ear and knew it was not his bat but his skull that had created the noise.

Ginny was forcibly reminded of how she got here, then she and Wally were back in her hospital room. She looked at her body and was upset that it had not moved.

"You'll recover. They've placed you on the 15 day disabled list. You'll be right as rain by then." Ginny found Wally's words reassuring.

She was about to ask about the last at bat she saw when suddenly she was back in her body, ready to awaken.


	7. Chapter 7

Ginny opened her eyes and saw Amelia standing at her bedside. She tried to speak but her mouth was too dry. She managed to croak out "water".

Amelia got the bottle from the table and let Ginny suck at the straw. As Ginny drank, she pressed the button to call for the nurse then told Eliot to make the calls. He stepped out.

The nurse came in and checked Ginny's signs. She seemed pleased Ginny was awake. She said the doctor would be in to discuss her prognosis.

"What do you remember?" The nurse had left and Eliot was still in the hall making calls. Amelia was relieved that Ginny had woken up, but she knew they weren't out of the woods yet.

Ginny was still groggy but managed to respond; "Mike called for a fastball. It came back faster. Then I woke up here. What day is it?"

"It's Wednesday. You've been unconscious for about 40 hours. The ball hit you in the head."

"Where is everybody?"

"Your mother is flying in today. She should be here in a few hours. Eliot is calling her and Oscar. The team is in Colorado but he's in town."

Ginny had the worst headache she'd ever experienced. She looked around the room and saw a ton of cards and flowers, which made her feel a little better. "When can I pitch again?"

Amelia shook her head at Ginny's single mindedness. "The team put you on the disabled list. When Oscar gets here you can ask him about the details. My understanding is that you'll be out at least a couple of weeks. Of course that's all dependent on what the doctor has to say. He should be in very soon."

Eliot came back in the room. "I talked to your mom. She's in the air. She should land about 2:00. She's calling your brother from the plane. Oscar said he would be here in 30 minutes. He's calling the travel secretary to tell the team you're awake. Also Evelyn Sanders asked me to call her when we had news. She said she would be right over."

For once Ginny was looking forward to seeing her mother. Nothing like a bump on the head to turn you into a little kid who wants her mommy. The feeling would undoubtedly fade once she was here.

Amelia had something else on her mind. "Ginny, when you started waking up you were talking. You said the name 'Wally' and asked 'What happened to Ray Chapman?' Are those people we need to contact? Old boyfriends?"

"Old ballplayers. No, you don't need to contact them. That's something I have to do myself."


End file.
